Tell me you love me
by Flightworks
Summary: Sometimes all you really need is for someone to tell you they love you. Axel x Roxas - Sora x Riku
1. Chapter 1

**Flightworks: **So along with the naruto fiction that I'm currently writing I've also been persuaded to do another story revolving around an alternate universe for the Kingdom Hearts series. Interestingly enough I'm actually very excited to do it especially since when the idea was brought up to me I was reluctant to even consider it. But then after a cup of ice chips and a few sparked ideas I was suddenly plotting out events for the story. The beta for this story is my best friend's younger sister and she has kindly agreed to help make this story – though I'm doing most of the typing. Anyways please read and enjoy, if you enjoy it enough review please and give me some feedback.

Disclaimer: We own nothing -_-; Not even our own lives belong to us so the Kingdom Hearts series is way out of our league

**Tell me you Love me**

Written by Flightworks

Additional help provided by Kuroi Yuki

**ACT ONE: Trouble & Heartache**

Where had she gone wrong? Thinking back on the sixteen years that had led up to this day she couldn't even determine what could have caused these reactions. Had she not loved them equally? She'd been especially careful to provide them both with the same amount of attention, never giving to one and not the other. But maybe it wasn't as simple as counting the minutes or hours or a gift between them and it was something she could do nothing about. But one thing was for sure, the frustration and pent up anxiety were hitting her harder and harder lately until she barely wanted to get up in the morning. A pair of deep, ocean blue eyes looked over the top of the signed notice at the young man seated across from her, the focal point of her troubles as well as her one of her sons.

"So what happened?" She asked in a neutral tone, reigning in the exasperation she felt at the youth who sat placidly across from her. At least he was feeling some semblance of shame, his eyes wouldn't meet hers and his face was turned at an angle. But maybe that was also due to the fact that he wanted to hide the swelling bruise on the left side of his face from his mother.

"…" She was given absolute silence and it only served to infuriate her more at his disrespect. She felt for his teachers, every one of them had called her one time or another to address her son's behavioral issues that had only worsened as he got older.

She had assured herself that it was simply a faze they would go through at some point and had almost managed to dismiss his downward spiral with the excuse that he would pick up and resume his studies and would be more like his brother. But it hadn't played out that way. Maybe it was her neglect that his behavior had gotten this bad, maybe he was acting out for attention. She couldn't say for sure. The only way she would get anywhere was to ask him directly and right now that didn't seem possible if he continued as he was.

The boy's eyes were narrowed at the floor but every so often would shift to her, revealing a pair of equally blue eyes through his spiked blonde hair.

A sigh escaped the woman, now in her late twenties, as she opened her mouth to repeat the question. "Roxas, you heard me." Her voice was sterner, stronger. "What happened?" Her stricter tone had no effect whatsoever, the teenager just watched her blankly, tightlipped and uncooperative.

"Roxas!"

"A fight!" he yelled back, twisting his face to her and showing the darkened skin just below his left eye. The ugly mark had swollen to the point where his left eye had a temporary squint to it and the bruise all but swallowed his face. She didn't know what to feel first, the shock and concern over her child's welfare or the anger and shame that her son had gotten into another fist fight and had to be suspended from school again. It would be the third time this year.

"Why were you fighting? What logical explanation can you give me that you needed to –" she returned her eyes to the scribbled notes on the document from his principal. "Beat one of his peers over the head with a gym hockey stick." She echoed what had been written, mentally cursing the principal's chicken-scratch writing. In typical mother fashion she slapped her hand down on her thigh in an exaggerated motion of astonishment and disbelief.

Roxas did not answer right away choosing instead to look dubiously at his hands which were bunched in his lap fisting the fabric. "They started it." It wasn't a whole lie. The three students who had attacked him in the gym room had finally caught wind of Roxas badmouthing them. They had probably just intended to rough him up a little but he'd continued to taunt them so he wasn't at all surprised when they started after him.

"And you're alright with this?" She said, scowling at his indifference toward his actions. At this rate he wouldn't even graduate High school and seeing as his grades weren't all that good at the moment he wouldn't be eligible for a scholarship or even be able to weasel his way into a good university. She was working two jobs as it was, thinking of taking up a third to put her boys through college made her break out in hives. That is if she didn't collapse from mental and emotional exhaustion first.

She closed her eyes feeling a dull throb beginning at her temples and praying to every deity she knew for the patience she didn't have at the moment. As she collected herself Roxas slid off the chair and proceeded to walk out of the kitchen.

"And where are you going? To your room right now and stay there until I call you." There was no keeping the snarl of unhappiness from her voice and Roxas' silence only made her angrier as he trotted up the carpeted steps toward his room as the front door swung open.

"I'm ho –" The teen's voice trailed off as he saw his sibling's beige pants disappear beyond the second levels banister before looking furtively toward the doorframe leading to the kitchen where he could see his mother.

"Welcome home, Sora." She said almost robotically, the emotion drained from her voice as she slid her chair under the table as he moved about the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Sora cast a dismal look in the direction of the upstairs, the rumor about his brother being suspended from school today had reached him by fifth period and it had greatly unsettled him. It turned out to be the truth and he was feeling worse. Noiselessly he placed his backpack beside the sofa and walked into the sunlight kitchen as his mom rinsed the steak she had left in the sink to defrost. As usual the room was spotless and shined, smelled of pine-sol and febreeze. His mother had always been very particular on how she cleaned her home, especially when it came to the high traffic areas.

"So, how was your day?" He asked, feeling as if this question was routine enough to begin with rather then jump into what was going on with his brother.

The woman shook her head and embraced the same silence that she had been shown and Sora knew enough about his mother that in times like these he should give her some time to compose herself. And likely decide a punishment for his sibling.

Without having to be told he left the kitchen and plodded up the steps until he reached the second floor of their home, staring worriedly at the pale white door to his brother's room. He couldn't understand what had changed either and he had been around Roxas the most. Who could be closer then his twin – albeit fraternal not identical. They had shared everything, birthday's, bicycles, ice cream, bedrooms, on the off occasion underwear, so why now of all times was he absolutely clueless as to why his brother never talked to him?

Mid-terms were swift approaching and at the pace that Roxas had chosen he wouldn't be passing them. Sora felt nausea's at the idea of graduating without his brother standing in the same awkward, flowing silver gowns at graduation and knew his mother wouldn't be pleased either. Sora paused in front of the door, looking dejectedly at the chipped paint and the gold-painted knob that was so scuffed he could see the brass beneath the yellow shine.

"You can come in you know."

Roxas' voice resounded from within. It wasn't the fabled sixth sense that surrounded twins, he simply hadn't heard Sora go into his room and since the bathroom was on the other end and the door hadn't been opened because it creaked like nobodies business, it served to reason that his brown-haired twin was waiting for an invitation.

Sora cautiously entered the room, though as he thrust his head in, he planted a broad smile across his face as he started inside. Roxas looked thoroughly turned off by his antics so Sora quickly sobered up as he moved to sit beside him.

"So what's up? What's going on with you lately?" He couldn't count how many times he'd asked his brother this very same question.

"It's nothing to do with you. I've already got Mom hassling me so lay off." He muttered.

"Hey I'm just trying to look out for you here." Sora replied, raising his hands and exposing his palms as the other boy stared at his bedroom floor. "I'm worried about you, Mom is too. If you don't want her to hassle you stop getting into fights." He urged, feeling in his gut he was fighting a losing battle himself. No matter what he said Roxas probably wouldn't be fazed and wouldn't take his advice. In the past he would always listen to him – not to say that Sora bossed him around. But Sora had always seemed to be so bright that following him could only lead to good things.

"There you go, sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." The blonde grumbled lowly, exasperation all too clear as he sent his brother a sidelong glare of disdain. "You're like an old lady! Just mind your own business!" His voice climbed in volume until it seemed to be the only sound in the room.

Sora was at a loss for words, stricken by how insensitive his brother had become. He didn't know what hurt him more, watching his brother spiraling out of control, or knowing that there was little he could do to stop it.

Sadly, slowly, Sora got to his feet and fixed the teen with a look that said even more hurtful things then what had just been spoken. "You know Roxas; I remember when there was a time that you and I could tell each other everything. And no matter how bad it was, we helped each other. Always." The last word came out a whisper, a plea. Roxas did not seem at all moved by it as he turned his head away, eyes downcast.

"Yeah, but I'm not so little anymore." His voice also was a whisper, as if now he was regretting his unintentionally harsh words. But no apology followed. Sora took a deep breath and as he exhaled his entire being seemed to shrink dejectedly. "And that's what worries me." And as if that was the closing statement on their intense argument he turned on his heel and left the room. The soft click as the door met the frame again seemed painfully loud.

Sora slumped against the door, eyes misting with the threat of tears. Only when he had regained his composure did he make the short walk to his own room and plop face-first on his own bed. But naturally, he couldn't breathe in that position so it wasn't long before he was forced to turn his head to the side for air. The bedspread was one of his favorites from when he was small, decorated with tiny spotted dogs digging up bones, chasing cats, or playing in the mud with their paw prints creating trails between the images. It was strangely nostalgic and just what the right amount of comfort, as well as a bitter-sweet twinge as memories came flooding back.

Days spent huddled with Roxas at his side as they hid from the thunder rattling the sky, afternoon's wasted under trees in the backyard and using the very same blanket for their picnics. They were heartwarming memories that he sometimes wished he could relive. But with the newly developed attitude his brother had adopted, he could only dream of them.

"Roxas…" he mumbled gently, closing his eyes and somewhere in between his thoughts drifted off. What woke the brown-haired was a gentle, but persistent, knocking on his window. He noticed it distantly and almost had the mind to ignore it completely.

"I know you can hear me."

Crap.

Groggily he opened one eye and found a smiling face peering into his room and rolled his eyes at the absurdity. Grumpily he planted his face back into the mattress, mumbling, "Yeah, but what does it matter? I know you can pick the lock." As if to emphasize his point the window creaked as it was opened.

"You know me too well." The low but happy words came from a teen that was only a year older than the friend whose room he was invading. Pale silver hair fell over turquoise eyes that were met with the uncharacteristic scene, effectively dampening the smile that stretched over his face. For a moment there was silence, nothing but their breathing and the sound of the balmy spring air rushing through the still open window.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Sora's voice came in another muffled rush and that assured Riku, his childhood friend of more years than he dared to count. "Not sure, are you going to cry now? I can get you some Kleenex."

Sora propped himself up on his elbows and shot the boy an incredulous glare that was brushed off by its receiver. "I'm not crying." The younger of the two announced though his voice was anything but convincing at the time, which only allowed his friend's grin to broaden. "Sure, sure, whatever you say tough guy." Riku said, crossing the room and dumping himself beside his disheartened friend.

"So what's got you down now? Is the disciplinary committee hounding you about your brother again?"

At his words the image of four upperclassmen emerged in Sora's mind. Seifer and his cronies, had been elected (by themselves) as the school's own disciplinary committee and were constantly hounding Sora on Roxas's bad behavior. "You're half right." He said disconsolately, edging up on the mattress until he could claim a seated position, legs swinging over the side.

"I don't know what to do Riku. Every time I try to give him advice he throws it in my face." With this exasperation overrode the dark feeling he'd been suffering from, real anger surfacing at last. He was tired of everyone coming to him to discuss their own discrepancies with Roxas, he was aggravated at his brother's lack of consideration toward everyone who cared or tried to help.

"Want me to talk to him?"

Riku's words gave Sora the nudge he needed to break out of his heated stupor, but even then he wasn't in the least bit relieved to hear the offer from his best friend. "You can try I suppose, but I doubt he'll listen to you either." He muttered as his friend stood up and headed for the door.

"Since when were you the pessimist?" he called over his shoulder before ducking out of the room, footsteps resonating in the corridor and a gentle knock sounding next door. Several moments passed without sound and Sora filled it with thoughts directed toward how he could get Roxas to see reason until Riku returned.

"Sora? Did your mom tell your brother to stay in his room?" at this Sora felt his heart sink into his stomach. "Yes."

"He's not there." Riku couldn't be anymore aloof about the disappearance as Sora bolted to his feet and was stumbling out of the room, nearly running over the silver-haired teenager who scrambled out of the way. _'He did not just leave the house.'_ Even as Sora thought this he knew it to be true, tying Roxas down was like trying to fly a kite in a category five hurricane – it was going to get away from you sooner or later.

The door was still partially opened from when Riku had popped inside and Sora widened the entryway to find the room deserted and Roxas's bag missing.

"Mrs. Inase! Roxas has escaped again so Sora and I are going to go look for him." Riku shouted this over the banister; a flurry of words (likely profanity) was uttered from downstairs as Sora was tugged downstairs and toward the front door. Shoving his shoes onto his feet he allowed the taller teen to lead him out of his home and into the night.

**Flightworks**: Yatta!

**Kuroi Yuki**: Banzai!

**Flightworks**: Shut it you!

**Kuroi Yuki**: Doushite? D:

**Flightworks**: Because I'm the writer and I did most of the work so you don't get to celebrate D

Anyway, I hoped you all enjoyed the first chapter and would love if you'd leave a comment or rate us so we can press on with this lovely story. Either way see you next time ^^ Dattebayo!

A/N: Roxas and Sora's surname is Inase for my story

:D


	2. Chapter 2

**Flightworks: **Ohayo! The illustrious lady flight here bringing to you another precious installment of TMYLM – it's a poor acronym I know. Either way thank you for watching us as we pull out all the stop into bringing you a fresh and warm boy's love story to make you melt in your shoes and a little hot under the collar – if we ever get that far.

Disclaimer: We own nothing -_-; Not even our own lives belong to us so the Kingdom Hearts series is way out of our league

**Tell me you Love me**

Written by Flightworks

Additional help provided by Kuroi Yuki

**ACT TWO: **Alleyways and Altercations

Night swallowed the streets and blackened the sky, stars rendered obsolete by the glittering intensity of the city lights. It was March and as expected the nights still held fast to a dulled chill that reminded everyone of the winter that had passed. The air was too cold for the light jacket he had fled the house with but at this point they had likely figured out that he wasn't in his room, turning back wasn't an option. It wasn't unbearable, just inconvenient. His breath rose from his lips in hot plumes of smoke to swirl into the atmosphere and disappear. Roxas sort of wished he could do the same right now actually.

As he shuffled down sidewalk, moving along with the thinning crowd, he distantly berated himself for reacting to his every impulse. So far, listening to his instincts was leaving him with a number of unpleasant events to process and evade – or worsen as the case might be.

The boys at school, he could have ignored them, apologized for his attitude and left matters as they were. But instead, he had provoked them. The brawl in the Gym's equipment room had cost him; so much so that the satisfaction he received from beating them just didn't measure up. Not that he necessarily liked being the bad guy of all things, he just fit the bill.

At home he could have sulked in the comfort of his bedroom, and yet where was he now? Cruising the lamp lit streets of his neighborhood with no real destination in mind, freezing because he'd been too stupid to listen to anyone. If he ever returned (and that's a very big If) his mother would be livid, his brother would be disappointed and the punishment that was waiting to be doled out would undoubtedly be harsher.

Where had his life gone? What about all the goals he's set for himself? No college was going to take him for the reputation he had built within the first few months of his sophomore year, not to mention the disastrous first year of high school.

Glumly, Roxas set his gaze to the sky with its few misshapen wisps and felt the harrowing sting of tears behind his eyes welling up. He wouldn't cry damn it! The reason he was so disliked at school, the cause of his misfortune, it was all Sora's fault. If he wasn't so damn perfect all the time, he wouldn't always be compared to him. If his brother could be a little less wonderful, people might see Roxas for who he was as a person and not just as Sora's brother.

An ache crawled up into his chest, creating a vice around his lungs and choking him. He blamed the cold. Fervently rubbing his arm over his face to banish the tears threatening to fall, he breathed past them slowly. He knew he was wrong, he might not accept it but he was aware that none of what was happening was in fact, Sora's fault. His brother hadn't picked up the hockey stick and pegged a teenager in the back of his head with it. Sora hadn't even been the one to suspend him nor had he been the cause of the multitude of other incidents that had occurred. All of that had been his own doing, choices that he had made for himself. They couldn't be blamed on his fraternal twin.

His naked hands were feeling the bite of the cold even through the pockets of his jeans now. Sora had yet to find him – wait, why was he hoping for that? If his goody-two-shoes sibling found him then he'd have to endure the long walk home listening to a righteous tirade. He might not hate his brother but there was room for it to evolve.

Muttering an incoherent string of curses as he exited the quaint neighborhood and, on a whim, started heading toward the subway station. He didn't have his wallet on him and there wasn't exactly any place he could think to go, he wasn't even really thinking where he was going as he passed the convenience store that glowed on the corner. But his walk was immediately cut short, leaning against the far end of the building were the very same boys who had tried to corner him in the Gymnasium. All of them had black hair, a scruffy and unattractive bunch with bandages to show for their failed ambush.

His heart skipped a beat, its natural rhythm disturbed as he saw the trio who had yet to become aware of his presence. With any luck he could sneak over to the other side of the street – shit, one of them looked.

Roxas felt a nervous warmth rising from the pit of his stomach as the shortest of the teens looked up, mouth wide as he laughed and looking in Roxas's general direction. For a moment he seemed oblivious to the blonde-haired boy watching them, so engrossed in his friends that he even turned away from him and rejoined the conversation. Sadly, immediately afterward his gaze shot right back to him with a mixture of disbelief and fear. And like the pack animals they were the other two raised their faces and followed their friend's line of vision, pinning their eyes on Roxas who tensed beneath their gazes. He hadn't been afraid of them when they'd jumped him in the gym, now, outside of school, he felt greatly disadvantaged.

Hastily he crossed the street, completely ignoring the road signals and the fact that the light was green. He came two inches from being rammed by a sports car he didn't recognize sending the driver into a flurry of angry words as he broke into a gallop to escape oncoming traffic. But it was too late; the trio had seen him and was quickly closing in.

Whatever, he could lose these punks. He was well versed in the art of running away so evading capture would be easy enough.

Without further contemplation he broke his light jog and booked it.

The wind whipped his hair away from his eyes – or on the off chance into them, as he sprinted down the sidewalk barely avoiding an outright collision with startled pedestrians and the occasional animal. Pumping his arms in time with his strides, he spared a glance over his shoulder to see if the cronies were still on his trail. They were. Even the third guy who looked like he was about to have an asthma attack, was keeping pace with the others. Although instead of weaving within the crowd, they were carelessly mowing them down. He almost swore he saw the last one of them shove an old lady walking her mutt.

Growling to himself, Roxas picked up the pace. He knew that there was a street that bisected this one, a residential area where he could make a clean getaway. He saw the corner and turned sharply to duck into it. Problem, it wasn't the right corner. Roxas skidded to a halt finding himself not only on the wrong street, but a dark, dead end alleyway with a brick wall blocking his path. "Why does it always have to be a brick wall!" he snarled loudly, fisting his hair and frantically turning around to escape the trap he'd led himself into. Second problem, the boys were at that end.

Their shadows stretched into the alley and he felt sweat trickle down his neck as he faced them.

"Take it easy Red." The store clerk hollered cheerfully waving one pudgy arm after the exiting customer who returned the gesture with a little less enthusiasm. "You too old man." Was the nonchalant response from the teen, affectionately dubbed Red.

Tall and lanky, the youth was thin, the curves of his body emphasized by the black trench coat that hugged his frame. Sporting a pair of form-fitting blue jeans and a plain white T one couldn't necessarily judge by his attire his credibility – it was mostly his features that gave people the wrong impression. A slender face with narrow green eyes, a sharp nose hovering over thin lips and two purple teardrops beneath either eye. And his namesake red hair was a fashionable disarray of spiked locks that pulled away from his face and bobbed as he walked. In short most people thought he was a playboy, maybe even a worker at a host bar, on one occasion he'd even been mistaken for a thug. He still didn't know how that had come about.

Breathing in the cool night air he paused outside the convenience store and idly fingered the pack of cigarette's he'd just purchased, listlessly watching the slow-moving crowds pass him by. He could say honestly that this was possibly one in a handful of Friday nights where he had nothing to do. It was absurd. All his usual hook ups were either out of town, attending business or just not available. He didn't feel like surrounding himself with strangers and had no desire to get pawed at by tipsy club girls – or on the off chance guys.

Shrugging his collar up he opened the package and neatly popped the filter of one between his lips before he stashed the rest in his pocket, fumbling for a lighter. As he did the squeal of tires broke his concentration and like any other, sensible human being would, he looked up to see what had caused all the commotion.

His attention was drawn to the frantic driver screeching to a stop to avoid striking a blonde teen who wildly stumbled across the road to the sidewalk.

'_So it's true what they say, Blondes are total ditz's_.' He laughed inwardly before watching three more teenagers darting across the street, closing in on the first. For a moment, he was almost able to assume that all four boys were friends and they were just horsing around – until he saw the frantic expression on the blonde kid's face that belied that theory.

Now, typical Japanese people might look at all the factors and determine that the youth who was being chased was in trouble. But they also wouldn't _do_ anything about it. They would sooner turn a blind eye to the misfortunes of another person than risking their own neck to save them. Actually, most people could be like that, never mind just the Japanese.

Normally he'd just ignore all this with the rest of the law-abiding citizens, shirking off any moral obligation to see that wrongs were righted. But then again…He _had _been complaining about boredom, hadn't he?

Rolling the cigarette between his lips, he ambled with his usual slowness to the crosswalk and patiently waited for the light to change. No need to inspect the grill of an oncoming car as he tried to follow the four students playing their dangerous game of tag.

When the light flashed crimson he shuffled along with the other crossing pedestrians and headed down the walkway, becoming vaguely aware that his pulse had quickened and that he himself had begun walking faster. Excited and not sure why, he sped up and watched as the trio he'd spotted chasing the blonde duck into an alley and were swallowed by the shadows.

He had a choice, he could continue on this reckless path of citizen savior or he could do the smart thing and mind his own affairs and leave the kids to their violent games. It's not like he had a conscience to weigh him down, letting this kid get shanked wouldn't throw a wrench in his life whatsoever. And yet why were his legs moving forward? Why did his hand clumsily drop into his coat pocket to feel the cool metal of his cell phone? Why was he now staring into the alleyway, stalking the four teenagers and getting ready to alert the police? '_Face it your just crazy, accept it and get on with it._' He smirked as he recognized yet another little flaw upon his already long list of imperfect traits.

The four were speaking but the length of the alley made it so he only received their words in muffled strings, all he knew was that the blonde being cornered wasn't looking so hot in front of them. The three aggressors were thick kids, if you wanted to be nice and leave them with a little bit of self-esteem. They were also bigger than their victim and although he didn't know what gripe they had with their outnumbered friend, he knew a few blows from those meaty fists would eventually start to hurt.

For whatever reason he was still lurking, some desire not to interfere until absolutely necessary holding him to his position. He stood rooted in place, eyes boring into the backs of the three students and eventually straying to the blonde who met his gaze just long enough to realize they had a spectator. Blue eyes, even in the gloom they shined in the darkness and met his own. They had a weight to them, an unspeakable kind of pressure that made his breath catch in his throat and then release when those eyes were forced away from him as one of the other boys lunged for him. With the connection broken he found he could breathe again and resigned to jumping into the fray now.

"A blonde in an alleyway on a dark night being attacked by three goons, sounds like one of those American films if ya ask me." He piped, loud enough to draw the attention of all the combatants as he sauntered into their line of vision.

The boy who had been the first on the attack snarled and their red-haired intruder and somehow he couldn't help but find the expression funny. He looked like a bulldog he'd seen…

"Don't get involved, this hasn't got anything to do with you." Said the most aggressive of the three, the other two looking unconfident but nodded piously. The blonde, though silent thus far, seemed to be saying the opposite. No doubt he didn't want to be left to these three as his eyes darted suspiciously between everyone in the alleyway and then past those in front of him to his potential rescuer.

Shrugging his lean shoulders and raising his hands to expose his palms, the red head tried to look as unthreatening as possible, a crooked grin flaring of his pale face. "Now, now, don't get the wrong idea I'm not getting in your way. I know not to get in the middle of something like this." He agreed and as though to emphasize this began to retreat from the alley, lowering his hands and letting them fall into his pockets. "But," he smirked, pulling out his phone and flipping it open with his thumb and pressing nine on the keypad. "I know some guys who don't share my morals about youth brutality." And as he said this his finger glided over toward the number one and lingered there a moment before pushing the glowing key purposefully.

The threesome paled simultaneously, one of them looked like he was going to be sick at the thought and didn't wait for clearance to begin running past the others and out of the alley. Down to two wasn't much of a disadvantage but there was the person with the phone ready to call the police so that left the other two hooligans with little choice but to flee. The last one out gave the red-head a vicious shove and said some choice words to the victim before disappearing into the thinning crowds.

Roxas felt all the air rush out of him, he'd been ready to get his ass handed to him just a second ago but now he was standing in a foul smelling alley watching his attackers making a hasty get away. And his savior? Some red-headed punk rocker with the figure of a toothpick. Not what he'd been expecting at all but he'd take what he could get and run with it.

One of his would-be assailants gave the man a shove upon exiting, either the guy wasn't expecting it or was as weak as he looked because his back smacked against the wall and he slid down to the floor. Then there was nothing, nothing but the cool drone of the city events and their breathing filled his head.

"Hey kid you okay?"

Roxas jolted out of his stupor, tensely regarding his rescuer and giving the man what he hoped was an intelligent nod but he wasn't too convinced in his appearance right now. His skin was on fire; his palms were wet with moisture and forehead had developed a thin sheen of sweat. His blood was a constant pulse in his head and he swallowed convulsively, fighting back the fear that had gripped him upon being cornered.

"Man, what'd you do to piss that bunch off, huh?"

Roxas wasn't sure if the man was trying to be conversational or if he was genuinely interested as to why the three stooges had tried to murder him in plain sight. He clammed up, something that never happened anymore and reflexively he looked to the ground – the same reaction he gave his mother when he didn't want to look her in the face and tell her just how messed up inside he was.

"Fine, don't tell me. You're just lucky that worked." The man muttered with an enigmatic grin that snared his attention for an instant. There it was again, that strange feeling of being anchored to something truly solid. It had happened just a few minutes ago when their eyes had met. It was like he could finally feel the ground beneath his feet, an unfamiliar security that had no basis at all.

"Wha…?"

"I mean I haven't bought a phone card this week. I got no minutes." He said swinging his phone by its strap with another smile as he began sauntering out of the alley.

"Stay outta trouble kid." He bayed as he rounded the corner and entered the flow of people.

With the presence gone from the immediate area Roxas was able to realize a few crucial details. First of all he was on the brink of a heart attack considering it was throwing itself at its boney barricade in his chest. Second, he hadn't been any sort of coherent during that conversation and hadn't thanked the man. Not that he made a habit of thanking people even when they deserved it. And lastly, it was eleven at night. He was so fucking screwed when he got home.

**Flightworks**: Yatta! Second chapter is finished and the introduction of both our couples has come about. Now I get to screw with everything *evil laughter followed by series of coughs* Anyways, read it! Review it! Keep me interested in completing this story! Want more give me feedback X3 Ja Ne!

**Kuroi Yuki:** Banzai!

**Flightworks**:Are you jumping out of a plane or something….?

**Kuroi Yuki:** No. Isn't that for celebration? I thought it was. Should I say "Yatta!" instead?

**Flightworks: **It'd make more sense. Hey wait! Get back to the topic! We just finished another chapter anything you want to say Ms. I-do-homework-while-Flightworks-actually-makes-the-story?

**Kuroi Yuki: **Hey! I actually have to get that done and get some sleep so that I can function in school the next day! As it is, I keep falling asleep in class and missing things!

**Flightworks:** …and this has what to do with the ending of Chapter two? Ah, forget it and go sleep on the couch already, watch some black cat or that prince of tennis thingy. P Anyways, we're done here, hope you enjoyed it now GTFO.


End file.
